


Avarice Is A Good Way To Start

by LittleMusket



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adrrvam is basically Abraham Woodhull with morals, Gen, Malyhesa is a southern christian mother, Nalabi doesn't want to do this, Swearing, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMusket/pseuds/LittleMusket
Summary: Avarice(n.) excessive or insatiable desire for wealth or gainYoung Nalabi Aduain, born to immigrant Dunmeri parents in Falkreath hold, travels to Riften to join the Thieves Guild and bring in more money for her family’s farm. 3rd of Sun’s Height to 10th of Sun’s Height, 4E 198.





	Avarice Is A Good Way To Start

“Nalabi!” Came a voice across the farm.

“Yes, Father?” A girl replied, tossing the last of her grain to the chickens. Her blue-grey skin was freckled as a result of long hours in the sun, and her hair white as the snow upon the mountaintop, a result of genetic mutation shockingly common in her family line.

“Dinner’s ready!”

“Coming!”

 

The girl shooed the chickens out of her way as she walked down the path towards the house. The farm was small, pleasant, and poor. It was home to two horses, a cow, a herd of goats, a flock of chickens, wheat and cabbage, and a simple cottage that housed a family of three Dunmer. 

 

The man, Adrrvam, and his wife, Malyhesa, immigrated to Skyrim from Morrowind not long after they married. They established themselves as far south as they could get, making a farm in Falkreath hold, taking a plot of land between the two rivers draining into Lake Ilinalta. A few years later, they had a daughter, Nalabi, and after Malyhesa almost died in childbirth, they decided one was enough.

 

Nalabi entered the house and was greeted by a small table and her parents, her mother beaming. Dinner tonight was bread, milk, and goat roast, as it was most nights. Their herd of goats provided them with meat, as they were continually bred and raised for such, and milk, part of which was also provided by their cow. Travelers that came through the farm often mocked them for drinking milk, as if milk wasn’t good for you. Adrrvam didn’t care for these travelers and often sent them to camp beside the horses. Just as Nalabi was about to shove some bread into her mouth, Malyhesa stopped her with a glare, pointed ears almost twitching in agitation.

“Let us thank the gods for allowing us to enjoy this meal by our own terms, own the land to grow it, and the strength to harvest,” Malyhesa said, as she said every now and then when she was feeling exceptionally connected to home. Adrrvam smiled across the table before cutting into his own food, and Nalabi shoved her bread in her mouth.

 

“Anything interesting happen today?” Malyhesa asked when the family was nearly finished eating.

“I don’t think anyone left the farm today,” Adrrvam answered, looking at his wife and daughter in turn.

“Halla bit Alfharr,” Nalabi commented, downing the last of her drink. Her mother bristled. Halla and Alfharr, their horses, didn’t like each other very much. Alfharr, a dapple grey stallion, the family carriage horse, and Malyhesa’s favorite, continually tried to impress Halla, Nalabi’s piebald mare, but Halla wasn’t very interested.

“Hard?” She asked, pursing her lips.

“No,” Nalabi said, piling her dirty dishes onto one plate, “just a nip.”

 

Taking the rest of the dinnerware, Nalabi dismissed herself from the table and set them by the fire, where her mother already had water boiling to wash them. Washing dishes was Nalabi’s least favorite farm chore. She could shovel horse manure, birth a goat, plant a field of cabbage, anything but touch wet food in warm water. She also protested when she had to clean up bloodied travelers or kill a goat for dinner. She did not care for that shit at all. When she finished, Nalabi put the dinnerware back on the table and joined her parents outside to watch the dusk, as they did every night.

Outside, the animals were settling down. The chickens huddled together beneath their canopy, the goats laid about their pen, and the horses and cow grazed in their small pasture just off of the wheat field. Malyhesa and Adrrvam sat in two chairs just outside the cottage, and Nalabi hunkered onto the ground beside them. The last of the sun’s rays were disappearing behind the trees when Adrrvam cleared his throat.

 

“This farm is about to go under,” he said solemnly, gazing down at his own hands, which nursed a bottle of mead. “I know that the both of you know that.”

“The animals know, too,” Nalabi murmured, earning a glance from her parents. “I can hear you complaining to them.” Her father chuckled and took a swig of his drink.

“It’s just a bad crop this year, my loves,” Malyhesa sighed. Nalabi looked at her dear mother. Her once ebony hair was graying, and soon it would be as white as Nalabi’s.

“I was thinking…” Nalabi began, turning away from her parents’ questioning gaze. “A man in the Falkreath township told me about a money making operation in Riften. I was thinking I could join them.”

Adrrvam’s curious look dimmed and his face hardened. “Was it the Thieves Guild?” Nalabi nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but her father cut her off before she could begin. “No daughter of mine will be seen with those lowlifes!”

“Father, we need money.” Nalabi retorted, leaning her head on her hand.

“She’s right, Adrrvam,” her mother said gently, reaching to reassure her husband. “The Thieves Guild makes good money, and they treat their members like family, from what I hear.”

“Besides,” Nalabi cut in before her father could silence them, “I’ll have a mask. No one will know who I am.”

“A Dunmer girl with snow white hair is surely someone to remember, even beneath a mask,” Adrrvam warned. The three were silent after that, letting the true weight of the situation settle on their shoulders.

“I’ll be fine, Father,” Nalabi reassured, standing up. “I’ll return once a month to give you what I earn.”

“Why can’t you just pick a career in Falkreath?” Adrrvam demanded, rising from his seat. “You could hunt or farm or train with the court wizard. You know how you love your magic.”

“You know how much I hate killing.” Nalabi snapped, staring at her father. Malyhesa rose from her chair and stood between the two.

“I think Nala should join the guild,” she said, turning to her husband. “She’s small and quick on her feet, and she knows how to talk her way out of things. She’ll be fine.”

“But-” Adrrvam tried to argue, but his wife cut him off again.

“The gods will protect her.”

Adrrvam sighed and slumped back into his chair, admitting defeat. “Go where the wind takes you, my daughter,” he smiled weakly, “just come back to us.”

 

The next day, Nalabi packed her essentials, said goodbye to her parents, and with a bag on her back, an amulet of Azura around her neck, and a desire in her heart, she kicked Halla into a gallop and headed for Riften. Having never traveled alone before, Nalabi spent the seven-day trip full of fear, anxiety, and excitement, all at once. She called the emotion ‘a whole ass sack of bullshit.’ When she finally arrived in Riften, she was mildly shocked to have to pay to get into the city.

 

“What do you mean I have to pay? Why?” She demanded. No one had ever made her pay to enter somewhere.

“For the privilege of entering the city, of course.”

“Then I say this is a scam!” Nalabi snapped, crossing her arms.

The guard immediately shifted, raising his arms in that ‘shut up’ manner. “Alright, alright, keep it down. I’ll let you in.”

 

Smirking, Nalabi collected herself and walked into the city with her head held high. Once she was in, she was threatened by some guy, overheard a threat to a different guy, and could’ve sworn she saw skeever droppings all around a batch of cabbages. Disgusting.

It came to her, as she stood in one of the entrances to a small city market, that she had no idea how to find the Thieves Guild. Though the city was cramped and damp and dark and drear, this market had some charm to it. Nalabi hesitated before stepping into the circle, observing the stall owners; a Dunmer man, an angry looking Nord woman, an Argonian, and a man with fiery red hair. Interesting group, she thought to herself. Inhaling, she set one foot in the square and was immediately stopped by the man with red hair.

 

“Haven’t done an honest day’s work for all that coin you’re carrying, eh, lass?”

“Excuse me?” Nalabi was taken aback. She lived on a farm her entire life, who does this man think she is?

“I’m saying you’ve got the coin but haven’t earned a septim of it honestly. I can tell.”

“My wealth is none of your business.” She muttered, crossing her arms defensively.

“Ah,” the man said, stepping out of his stall, “but that’s where you’re wrong, lass. Wealth is my business.” Just as Nalabi was about to knee this man right in the jewels, she realized that maybe he’s the exact person she’s looking for. “Maybe you’d like a taste?” He continued, and Nalabi paused.

“What did you have in mind?”

 

Nalabi wasn’t exactly stoked to be running a scam against Brand-Shei, who appeared to be the only other Dunmer in the area, but if it meant getting the money for her family, she’d do it a thousand times over. The plan went off without a hitch, and the man invited her to join his organization beneath the city, in a section of tunnels called the Ratway. Begrudgingly, she accepted and sought him out beneath the misty surface. She had to kill four people, two skeevers, and stepped in more questionable liquids than she ever had while working on the farm, before finally reaching the Ragged Flagon. Crossing the pool, she stepped into the little bar and saw the man with the red hair again.

 

“Give it up, Brynjolf!” Said another man, this one blond and sporting the worst facial hair Nalabi had ever seen. “Those days are over.”

Before Brynjolf could reply, he spotted Nalabi and leaned against the bar. “Well, well...color me impressed, lass! I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.”

“I think I’ve killed more people in this gods-forsaken tunnel than I have in my whole life, but I guess it was alright.” She shuddered. Brynjolf just scoffed and exchanged a look with his blond friend. “You told me your group doesn’t kill anyone, anyway. Why are you looking like that?” She added.

“Easy, lass,” he chuckled, picking up a bottle of mead to skim over the label. “It’s nothing to worry about. Now tell me, think you can handle our line of work?”

“Well, the problem with that is, uh…” Nalabi brushed a strand of hair behind her pointed ear, “I don’t know how it should be done. I mean, the market was kind of easy, but...”

Brynjolf glanced up from the mead label and gave her that sly grin. “Avarice is a good way to start.”

“I’m ready,” Nalabi said, standing as straight as she could.

“Let’s get you on a job, then.”


End file.
